La Lune (Isaac x OC x Stiles)
by stillcalledlore
Summary: It is Sophmore year and Beacon Hills has only begun to unravel the world of the supernatural. When an unusual family moves into the secluded house at the end of the road, paranoia begins to blur the line between what is normal and what is not. Begins mid-season one of the show.
1. Chapter 1

A clamorous heat distilled the California forests. Summer was closing in on autumn and high-school would never be the same. Supernatural, was one word the brown-eyed galoot would refrain from using if only because of its mediocre overuse. No, Stiles Stilinski would instead engulf the beastly happening in their little town of Beacon Hills in a more 'poetic' word, 'Wolves-y' would do. Little would the spastic young teen come to learn; that werewolves weren't the only mystical creatures that roamed in the dark. Far more sinister and unearthly beings would come to exist in his little bubble of a world.

He was walking through the stretch of the forest, distractedly traveling deeper than usual. Stiles was reaching, trying to figure out who the Alpha was, for all he knew, it could've been anyone. With Derek off the list of possible suspects, that left them with, well, nothing. A light disrupted his wandering thoughts; a glare from a distance that instinctively caused him to duck behind the conveniently placed bushes clumsily. Hoping he didn't make too much sound, Stiles peaked at the source and what he saw would leave the curious adventurer with ever more questions to ask. With reddened cheeks and wide-eyes; he was left bewitched.

* * *

Disdain settled in the willowy framed girl. Her golden locks cascaded to the small of her back; lilting with every bounce in her step. Growing foliage kissed her pale ankles, wishing to tangle themselves around this ethereal being. There was something intangible about her. It was as if she was tethered to this earth with the finest of threads. Whatever it was, she was beautiful. Cynthia Carmichael or "Cyn" (pronounced as Sin) was a spectacle indeed. Her family had moved to this town only a few days earlier. She was one half of a pair, with a twin named Silas. The duo was relocated with and by their father, Andrew. As for their mother, she had passed away for almost six months now. It had an unclear effect on the family; they carried on living just as they always would. But then again, they still had their dysfunctional habits before their loss.

Like right now, for example, there she was, trapezing through the forest in search of something untouched. Deeper and deeper, she walked, unphased by what could have made these woods a home before her. A demanding glistening lured her towards the rocky climb down, any sour emotions dissipating as the sound of water reached her ears. The smile barely visible, teased the corner of her lips as she stood at the mouth of the swimming hole. The water spread across a good nine diameter around, but with such deep hues of blues, she couldn't wait to discover how downward it went.

Graceful and unbashful, Cyn stepped out of her shoes, and slowly slipped out of her short summer dress. The cold water called to her, and lightly she gravitated towards it. The cool breeze was hitting her exposed skin, with nothing more than lacy undergarments to keep her protected, she shivered. Bliss, this was pure bliss. With her toes now touching the frigid water and the sun rays cascading off her, she was golden. Her thunder-stricken tresses reflected off the light like a halo; pushing it out of her face, the light bounce off her golden necklace, striking her surroundings before she drew in air and dived into the deep unknown.

Submerged, she swam farther in-depth. The water blocking out her senses one by one the lower she went, gradually the light turning into a pinhole that barely reached the bottom. There she remained, fingers grasping the wall as she held her breath. Three minutes, Six minutes, she eventually lost count. Her heartbeats were set apart with a growing distance. Twenty minutes had always been her longest time, but she never managed to reach her end. A thief stole her away from the darkness, pulling her to the surface.

"Cyn..." the voice echoed in her head. "We're late."

Pushing off the rocks, she swam to the surface and glared at the golden boy before her. Her twin stood there looking utterly annoyed, arms crossed, as he offered her his hand impatiently.

Accepting the help, she let him pull her out of the swimming hole before a towel was tossed over her. Cyn only had a sarcastic smile to offer before she put her shoes back on and headed back in the direction of the house. Silas, catching up to her with ease. "Honestly, of all the days to go wandering off," he rolled his eyes, not amused about being late for their first day at school. Starting in the middle of the school year wasn't something he was entirely keen on, but unlike his sister, he could blend in well. He had always been charismatic and social — the star-athlete. Cynthia however, preferred to keep to herself, using words as rarely as she could. She would much rather be in nature during all hours of the day than spend a minute in those fluorescent-lit classrooms with hormonal teenagers.

* * *

A knock disrupted Mr. Harris mid-sentence during his chemistry class. Irritation plastered across his face as he opened the door to what seemed to be the dean. The teacher took a moment to glance at his watch before he unimpressively shared a glance at the two teenagers standing behind the principle. One with a smug grin and the other, well, it took him a moment to shift his gaze.

Cyn stood at a distance, her hair still damp from that morning. Her appearance was unrefined, and yet there was a raw grace about her. Dressed in a pair of blue jeans, and a thin white knitted sweater, its neckline plunging into a V, showing her frail frame.

Clearing his throat, Mr. Harris walked back into the classroom. "Class, we have two new transfer students from..." he drifted not receiving that bit of information from the magnetic distraction. The twins stepped into the classroom, Silas bolder than the other. "Newark" her brother shared before continuing. "I'm Silas Carmichael, and this is my sister Cynthia." Cyn withheld the urge to roll her eyes, but she stood confidently in her spot, eyes drifting to the window rather than acknowledging the class.

The energy in the room was electrifying. All students had their eyes glued onto the pair, a group of girls giggled which forced a confident smirk from her brother. "Pig," she thought, not shying to share that thought with her brother clairvoyantly before she walked past him.

A boy seated in the front shared the same smug smirk her way, expecting her to take the seat at his side. He was an impressive spectacle after all, and if Lydia were in his class, surely that seat would've been hers. Instead, the blonde beauty moved towards the desk next to the window, never sparing a glance at anyone. The curly-haired boy next to her fidgeted unconfidently, but all of these interactions and expectancies flew over her head.

The class commenced once more, and by then Cyn had drifted, eyes closed with glaring sun leaking through the window. The warmth of the sun, causing her body to unwind.

* * *

Fluttering eyes, Isaac slowly zoned out; he was exhausted. With the night-shift at the graveyard and lacrosse practice in the morning, it was challenging to stay awake in class. It had an evident effect on his academics, something which only caused him more 'discomfort' by the time grades rolled in. Had it not been for the knock, he would surely have been a drooling mess by now.

The pause perked his senses as he watched Mr. Harris conversate with whoever it was at the door. A minute passed, and he returned with a blonde-headed pair. The male was tall, athletic, and carried confidence that would put their very own golden boy to shame. And by the reaction he had on the girls, Jackson would surely have to up his game to keep up.

At the mention of his 'sister,' Isaac felt his gaze stray to the girl. A pink hue flushed his cheeks. She captivated him, just as she captivated the jock seated at the front. Noticing the empty chair next to Jackson, a small frown tugged at Isaac's lips as he moved his eyes to his table, knowing exactly how this was going to play out. After all, this was Jackson, and what Jackson wanted he got.

The boy felt a need to glance back at her, but as soon as he lifted his eyes, his brows furrowed. She was no longer standing there, and instead, his classmates' eyes were glued onto him. _Why would they?_ He thought but then felt someone next to him. Isaac couldn't help but stare; a light swam in his electric blues. And yet, she never glanced back at him; instead, he watched her as she closed her eyes and bathed in the sunlight. The frail creature was unearthly in the way she was there, tangible, he thought, but wasn't really **_there_**, there. He couldn't explain it, but there was an urge to touch her to make sure she was real. But of course, he refrained from doing so as he forced himself to focus back on the blackboard.

* * *

Isaac listened as Mr. Harris drawled on and on about formulas he never grasped the purpose of. After a moment, he was beginning to zone out again when a current ran up his spine. His left hand's fingers twitched as something soft brushed against them. Tearing his eyes away from the lecture and onto his hand, he couldn't help but stifle his breath as Cynthia's hair brushed carelessly across his hand. She was far off in a world of her own, not noticing her effects on the nervous boy.

She was real, after all.

* * *

**Face Claims**

**Cynthia "Cyn" Carmichael **is played by **Gabriella Wilde**

**Silas Carmichael **is played by **Chris Zylka**


	2. Chapter 2

A thousand miles away, she was. In a meadow, in a secret garden, in an untouched spring, anywhere but here. The sunlight leaked through the glass window, tracing her features with its heated rays. Absent in her world, she was oblivious to what was happening around her until an object eclipsed her light.

"Miss Carmichael," the older man's voice demanded attention, sequentially forcing her to open her sleepy eyes. Her chin nestled into the palm of her hand. Even in brief slumber, she was poised and unraveled by the gravity of this world. "Care to share with the class, what is the atomic number for mercury?" He almost taunted, with arms crossed. His eyes faltered with a different emotion, lechery.

Cyn kept her eyes on the older man, taking a moment before she enunciated the number her brother thought.

"...Eighty"

Her words dulcet, small and feminine. Careless, nevertheless. The answer deflated the man's ego, "correct," he shared as he moved back to the front of the class.

'You owe me' Silas mused in her head. This telepathic ability between the twins was a gift, but in most cases, it was a nuisance. Leaving him with static silence, she glanced at her brother, giving him her standard sarcastic smile.

"Mr. Lahey, seeing that you've far surpassed the educational value this class has to offer, and would much rather be staring at Miss Charmichael's head. Do share, how many neutrons are in the ion?" The embittered teacher squinted his eyes at the startled curly-haired boy. This time and for the first time, causing Cynthia to look at her side. The boy was quick to revert his attention from blonde nymph and to the front of the class. His heart, palpitating in embarrassment.

The boy, with a healing bruised eye. The light purple hues stealing her attention from his blue eyes at the start, but then she fell into the turbulent waves. The sight of his hesitancy and lips quivering ever so slightly tugged at her.

"Just as I thought," Mr. Harris turned his back, not stepping down to make a martyr out of the boy as he continued to jab. "Do pay attention; we don't want you to repeat the..."

"Twenty," Isaac stuttered at first, but the answer was loud enough to silence the man, forcing the teacher to go back to the lecture shamefully.

Isaac's heartbeat was deafening. His blue eyes now fixated on the hand that was only a moment ago, tracing numbers against his. Two, Zero...He could still feel her touch. Shyly, he tried to catch a glimpse of her face, but once more she was back in her little headspace. Eyes closed and burning gold.

'My chores for the next week' Silas smugly shared the thought, forcing a deep sigh from the girl. A silent agreement for the answer she shared with the broken boy beside her.

For some reason, even with her eyes closed, she couldn't think of her safe places. Blue eyes riddled her, Blue eyes and the cosmic bruise.

* * *

The remainder of the school day dragged on in excruciating length. Cynthia could feel herself withering, and had it not been for lunch break; she surely would've vanished right then. With her lunch bag in hand, she skipped the social gathering of the ranks in the cafeteria, and instead, headed outdoors, locating a soft patch of grass to rest.

Silas had mentioned signing up for the lacrosse team, despite the chances being rather slim what with starting the school year late and all. But he was an athlete to watch out for back home. 'They'd be so lucky,' he confidently boasted to his sister only moment ago, confident that he'd make the team.

With a deep inhale, this was not the time to think about the golden boy's pristine destiny to greatness. No, this was the time to rest. Laying back on the soft earth, she quietly closed her eyes. Shadows and lights dancing upon her as the wind pushed against the hanging tree. Steadily she breathed, but comfort never found a place in the vessel. Blues and purples plagued her.

Mr. Lahey...

Furrowing her brows, this unsettled her, maybe even enraged her. Breaking away from her moment of solitude, she opened her eyes and focused on the dancing leaves instead. Distracting her head from the unwelcomed face.

* * *

"I'm telling you Scott; something was off about her." Stiles shared his paranoid concerns with his best friend. "Any normal human would've been out of that water ages ago, I thought she drowned," he continued to ramble. His tongue racing to beat his thoughts.

"So what? You think she's a werewolf?" Scott shared 'secretively,' sounding absurdly dumb to his energetic friend.

"Yeah, Scott, I think she's a werewolf," his tone dripping with sarcasm. "No, but who's to say that other hairy monsters don't roam Beacon Hills," this comment rewarded him with a punch to the arm. "You know hairiness is attractive some girls," he loudly called after his friend, bringing unwanted and humiliating attention the pair.

Stiles was trailing after Scott as they walked out of school; heading towards the bleachers to train Scott for the next full moon.

Glomping his friend, the pair hit the ground in the most graceless and conspicuous way. And had it not been for the convenience of bushes when it came with Stiles, Cyn would've surely caught sight of them. "There she is!" He whispered/yelled to Scott.

* * *

A loud thud silenced nature around her, propelling Cyn to sit up as she glanced in what she thought was the general direction of the sound. Inspecting her surroundings for a moment, before letting it be.

She could feel a pair of eyes on her, but she was the new girl and assumed it could've been anyone. Feeling like she wouldn't be getting the remote time she needed, she grabbed the peach from her lunch bag instead. Sinking her teeth into the fruit as she lazily played with grass; the feeling of the blades tickling the palm of her hand always calmed her nerves.

* * *

Using his elevated senses, Scott laid low until he felt the girl's energy turn to something else. Pushing Stiles off the pair gingerly sat up and took in the sight of his fidgety's friend new obsession. Realizing this had to deal with more than the 'supernatural' and who could blame him, she was...

"Wow," Scott unconsciously let out, only earning an agreeing nod from his friend.

"Wow? Really?" A female's voice demanded.

In a heartbeat, both males turned around, clambering to their feet. Behind them stood Allison with anger and Lydia with a judgmental glare and trademark pursed lips.

"Hey, hey, Lydia," Stiles nervously echoed. But the girls completely ignored him; their anger primarily centered on Scott. "Uh..." the brunette boy stalled, unsure of how to explain the situation. For one, it entailed the supernatural (or so Stiles had claimed), and two, well, there was no explanation to two.

"Allison," Scott started, but the girls were already off, leaving the boys in their dust.

Sulking in his minor screw up, Scott turned back to their target that was now no longer there.

* * *

They were a curious sight, the Carmichael twins. Upon further observation, it seemed like they never spoke to one another. They often shared silent glances, a smile or two; as if they were in on a secret joke that was never even spoken aloud. There was bond that was hard to place a finger on, but could be overlook by what people came to know as 'twin connection.'

The pair made their way to the lacrosse field, Silas had persuaded the coach to give him one shot to prove himself, and Cynthia was forced to tagalong as she had no ride back home. She wouldn't necessarily mind the walk back but seeing that she was often led astray and could stay out during all hours of the night; her brother had the responsibility of getting her back home in time before dinner time. Simply to her dismay, she was stuck.

* * *

Note: More conversations with Cyn will take place in the next part. Promise.


	3. Chapter 3

Tucking back her strayed blonde strands as the light breeze was tossing it. Cyn watched her brother approach the lacrosse team from the empty bleachers. Her expression neutral, not even she could deny that being at the practice was a complete drag. The weather was phenomenal, she was secluded in a sense, and she would be left alone. Or so she had wrongly presumed.

It only took a minute for her space to be invaded by a strawberry blonde and a brunette.

"Lydia Martin," the fairer of the two introduced herself seamlessly as she took a seat next to Cyn on the bleachers. The willowy creature looked at her without expression, not sure if she was supposed to be impressed by the ornate introduction. The friendlier of the two greeted her with a charming smile. "Hi, I'm Allison. You're new here, right?"

Clenching her jaw discreetly, she finally gave a small smile; not much caring for the company, but still.

"Cyn," she gave a short answer.

Raising her perfectly groomed brow. "Sin?" Lydia pressed, already judging the girl, but Allison dismissed the look by nudging her friend; silently asking her to reign in the attitude. They didn't want to intimidate the girl.

"I'm new as well, just moved here a couple of months ago. It's nerve-wracking at first, but you'll soon fit in." She chimed, trying her best to break the ice with the girl her boyfriend only hours earlier, had been staring at in awe.

"I suppose," Cyn left off with yet another disinterested answer as she turned her attention back to the boys. Her lips parting as she took in a sharp inhale. He was there, too — the battered boy with cerulean eyes.

"That's Jackson," Lydia piped in, flipping her soft locks with pride. "Captain of the team. My boyfriend." She had mistaken Cyn's gaze for another, and how she emphasized that the captain was her boyfriend only shed light on the fact that she wasn't very keen on the girl.

"And Scott's a part of the team as well, but he's in detention." The brunette shared a bit hesitantly with the last bit. But she was mostly focused on Cyn's expression by the mention of the name, wondering if the pair spoke.

Forcing her focus back on the girls, she gave them yet another weary smile, "That's nice." Not sure how to respond to the conversation. Nevertheless, her response put Allison at ease, and it would seem that their investigation was pointless. But this was Lydia, and she refused to let the conversation die so quickly.

"So, do you have your eye on anyone yet?" she pushed. Waiting for the blonde to mention a boy, maybe even 'Scott,' if only to put their assumptions to rest.

Studying the expression on Lydia's face, she felt like there was more to this interaction that she was not in on. "My eye?" She returned the question, hoping to understand what they were getting at.

"Brown hair, tanned skin, puppy dog eyes, and a constant constipated expression," she sarcastically described; earning here yet another nudge and offended 'hey' from her friend.

"No," Cyn dismissed this time her eyes fixated on Allison, presuming this is the 'Scott' she had mentioned.

Clearing her throat, Allison tried to lighten up the tense air around them as she drove the attention back onto the boys on the field. "That's your brother, Silas, right? We have Biology together." The blonde held her gaze on the girl for a moment; examining her pretty face before she nodded. She wondered why a girl that lovely would be doubting herself or was it her boyfriend she doubted?

Cyn returned her eyes on the field. Then again, who was she to wonder? She had never been a relationship before and probably wouldn't understand the complications and insecurities that came with it.

Seeing that they'd be sitting there for a while. Cyn's curiosity was getting the best of her. "Why does he have a bruise around his eyes?" Her words were vague as to whom she was talking about, but this was the longest string of words she had formed. It encouraged the girls to connect.

"You mean Isaac?" Lydia, who knew everyone one and anyone— even those that didn't fit in her clique, asked. Rolling her green eyes, "who knows? He's such a weird one. I wouldn't worry. It's probably from lacrosse." She would've carried on had it not dawned on her quick. Shooting her head to the new girl. "Why?"

A redness kissed Cyn's cheeks as she was caught off-guard. She fished her mind trying to find the right response to share with this fox of a girl. "He's in my chemistry class." Her voice was smaller than she would've liked. In truth, she wasn't sure why she was that curious of the boy; and blamed his bruise for being the reason she couldn't get him out of her head.

"I mean, he is kind of cute," Allison smiled, trying to support Cyn's crush. At least, that's what it looked like it was.

"Please, Allison," Lydia rolled her eyes once more, having already questioned the taste the girl had in boys. She was dating Scott McCall, of all boys. But she was excused since Scott was growing popular within the team of athletes.

"What?" The brunette defended with a laugh. "He does have that whole quiet and mysterious look going for him."

"You mean loner loser?"

This little tête-à-tête continued back and forth between the two. Granting Cyn an escape as she focused on the practice with disinterest. 'Isaac' she thought to herself, wondering how his name would sound rolling off her tongue. But to keep that little embarrassing mishap from happening she bit down on her lip, softly silencing herself as she watched.

"Have you spoken to him?" Allison asked. It would seem that their little debate had come to an end, and Allison didn't mind helping Cyn focus on someone other than Scott.

"Who?" Cyn responded after the moment of silence, figuring that the inquiry was meant for her.

"Isaac," the brunette teased. "Isaac?" Cyn softly uttered, his name causing her emotions to stir as she remembered those oceanic eyes. "Uh, n-no. His bruise just seemed odd, that's all." An all-knowing look was shared between the friendly two, leaving Cyn confused to what was going on.

The practice carried on, filled with two-sided conversations, and questions that brought Cynthia in. It would seem the girls didn't mind her company and in truth, even though friends was a foreign thing to her. She didn't feel bothered entirely by their company by the end of the day.

* * *

"Look at you, being all social," Silas teased his sister as he draped a heavy arm around her thinner frame. Rolling her eyes 'Shut up' she transferred her thought. Dipping under his hold and beating him to their car. Seeing that Cynthia had not cared to learn how to drive, her brother, burdened with driving her wherever she needed to go; not that she would've minded walking, no matter how far her destination was.

With the engine running the pair sat in the car for a moment. The roaring of the motor thickening an odd and unsettling silence between them.

"We're not alone," her brother's tone softer than usual, as if he was sharing a dangerous her brother in shock. The statement was enough to rattle her very being. She was never in tune or observant like he was, never aware of her surrounding; or never cared to be aware of it. She waited, unable to interject, in fear the worst.

"Werewolves," he frowned. Eyes fixated on the school and hands gripping the steering wheel that the white of his knuckles protruded. The disgust and hatefulness in his tone caused her to look away. Down to her lap. To her ring— which she was now nervously fidgeting with. To anything other than her brother.

Cynthia couldn't deny that she felt the same way towards the supernatural. They were impulsive animals, and wolves were prime predators, pack predators — something to fear.

* * *

Dinner that night held a more serious air than usual. Silas had explained to their father about his suspicions and his father soon confirming that something was indeed not right about this town. Where there were werewolves, hunters were sure to follow. And her father had no interest in being caught between the crossfire. So until further knowledge, they would lay low.

The entire conversation that night had left Cynthia wide-awake. Restless, she needed to go, to get away, go for a walk, swim, anything to get her mind off the past.

Slipping on an oversized sweatshirt and pair of sneakers, not caring to cover much skin. She hesitantly glanced at her ring, deliberating on taking it off but decided against it before she climbed out of her bedroom's ground-floor window.

The brisk night wind breathed life into her tireless form. Glancing up at the night sky; it was a full moon. The sight of the glowing orb caused her to question whether this was a good idea. Having just arrived in town only a week ago, she knew nothing about the 'animal' attacks and curfew. For all she knew, this 'werewolf' her brother spoke of was probably a lone omega; a teenager, no less. She could handle that much.

Decision made. Cyn walked down the paved road, her footsteps echoing in the dead of night. This feeling of being utterly alone in the world was mesmerizing; it made her feel so small in a world so much larger than herself. She could get lost in it for on end.

* * *

A great distance expanded between Cynthia and her new home. Now, edging into the mismatched suburban houses, she considered on heading back when a loud crash paralyzed her to her spot; right in the middle of the deserted road. Had anything been out there for a kill, she surely would've been torn to shreds.

A loud yet muffled commotion could be heard in one of the houses ahead, which only intensified the fear in her, but in a completely different way. She reluctantly walked closer, this time with meeker steps as she tried to make sure everything was alright. Maybe the residents were in danger. Maybe a werewolf or something supernatural was mauling a human.

When a human howl escaped the household, Cynthia found herself in a run, banging on the front door frantically as she tried to twist the locked doorknob. Instead, she was met with an alarming silence which only caused her to worry even more. Stepping back, she nervously fidgeted with her ring, trying to take it off when the door creaked open, immobilizing her from movement.

"...Isaac?" She breathlessly whispered.


	4. Chapter 4

**Trigger Warning: Abuse**

An unnerving undercurrent ebb and flowed within the Lahey's residence. The tenor was overwhelming despite it being the norm. It demanded not to be disturbed by the slightest of noise.

With only socks on, Isaac crept to the kitchen. He was starving and had not eaten anything all day. With school and lacrosse, Isaac felt his stomach knawing at his skin, desperate to consume something other than water. Lightly as he could, he pulled open a cupboard, grabbing the first thing he could reach that was edible — a box of stale saltine crackers. His stomach grumbled in satisfaction.

Isaac knew it wasn't a wise decision to stuff his mouth right there in the kitchen, so he would have to journey back to his room. Once more, crossing the hallway past his father's door.

Slipping back to his room, he sighed in relief. But that relief was short-lived when he turned around, only to find his old man sitting at his desk, glaring at the unfinished homework his son was staying up all night to work on.

"I mean," the harrowing older man started. "If you've got time for late-night snacks, I would've at least assumed you'd be done here, Isaac." His voice devoid of any sincerity, even though it was light; even kind, in a twisted way.

"I-I was...I was working on it," the boy stuttered out in a weak voice, internally cursing himself for listening to his fatigued body. He should've finished and gone to bed. "I'll put it back." Like a frightened prey, he took a step back, trying to get back to the kitchen.

"Eat it," his father's voice low and demanding. Isaac held in his breath, trying not to breathe. Maybe if he were quiet enough, he would cease to exist.

"I said, Eat it!" The older man shouted, and in an instant, his ramshackle desk was thrown over, and his father was standing over him. He tore the box from his hand, crumbs hitting the ground.

"I'm so-" Isaac started but was roughly cut off with his father stuffing crackers in his face. "What? You're what? Sorry?" He yelled, making the boy cower to the ground. "I think we should continue this downstairs," he father calmly said with a menacing grin.

"N-No please," Isaac started but was met with a kick to his side, forcing a cry from him. As his father was pulling him painfully back to his feet, erratic knocking forced the pair to go silent. The parent shoved his son in the wall, hand around his throat. "Not a word," he hissed before he allowed Isaac to get the door.

The damaged boy, pulled himself up; trying to appear as healthy as possible. Quickly brushing off any remnants of the cracker as he opened the door.

"Isaac," he heard his name. His liberator left him, spellbound. Wait, she knew his name? But then he quickly realized where they were and what was happening. He heard his father's door slam shut and exited the house just as quick. Closing the door behind him and standing at close proximity with the blonde, he couldn't stop thinking about.

She was an angel; golden locks tousled in a messy bun, her strands refusing the restraint as they shaped her porcelain feature. Even dressed in only an oversized hoodie, she looked effortlessly breathtaking.

Cynthia locked eyes on the boy before her. He looked unkempt, fragile even. This whole incident was not something she was prepared for, although she had propelled herself in it in the first place.

"I..." she started, but couldn't shake off the feeling that she had walked in on something ominous. She let out a calculated breath before parting her lips once more; unfazed by the small distance between them. "Are you alright?" She carefully asked, eyes locked on his.

The ocean in his eyes stirred her; she felt like she could get lost him. Which begged the notion; did he ever lose himself when he looked in the mirror?

All she could ever see in the mirror, were flat pale blue eyes, something that even she shunned away from. They were like ice daggers, daring her to have another glance.

It would seem that they both forgot the question asked for a moment, but then she saw the storm in his eyes and took a tentative step back. A crooked, broken smirk was forced to his lips, which caused her to take another step away. "I'm fine."

"I'm sorry," no, she wasn't sorry. She glanced back at Isaac's house. Maybe she read the situation all wrong, perhaps something far more sinister was happening. She went to utter another word but was cut off by the boy.

"Don't be," he rushed out; his expression, less fake this time. A nervous air welled up between the two teenagers. It was a confusing situation, one that they didn't know how to go about. So, instead of dealing with it, Isaac changed the situation.

"Do you, do you live around here?" He asked, nervously tugging at his shirt as he tried to look more presentable in his slacks and t-shirt. He internally grimaced at how he thought he probably looked, standing there in his pajamas and only socks on.

Cynthia nervously played with her long sleeves, new to this attention from a boy. She remembered that she had called him by his name. He probably thought she was a stalker now, showing up at his house at such an odd hour in the night.

"No," she softly shared as she looked at the direction in which she came from. It was about a half-hour walk. Yup, she was stalker material now.

Isaac's eyes never left hers even as she looked away. She was beautiful, unearthly.

"I can uh, I'll walk you back," he unsurely offered, not wanting to overstep. He didn't want to screw this up; he screwed up everything. "There's been animal attacks and a curfew..." he went on, hoping it would save him from screwing this up.

Cynthia felt her heart beating rapidly against her chest. "It's ok," she bit her lip, unable to look at his eyes anymore and so she chose to focus on the lower half of his face; it was a close enough body part. What a handsome jaw, Cyn thought to herself— shocked by the thought, she played with a stray strand of hair for a distraction. She needed to leave.

"I'll see you at school then?" He dejectedly asked. Who the hell was he anyway? Of course, she wouldn't want him to walk her back to her house.

"Do you want to go for a walk?" She blurted out the words before she even realized them. Biting hard on her lip, she felt too embarrassed even to notice the little cut she made.

Isaac stood there, dumbfounded. Maybe his father had hit him harder than he realized. This couldn't be real; she couldn't be real.

"N-Now?" He asked, but even while he was asking, he found himself putting on the shoes he had left out to dry. They were still damp, soaking his socks, but he couldn't care less. A bright smile extended across her lips at the site; he was adorable.

Isaac tied his shoes clumsily before he looked up at the girl. His heart physically stopping for a moment. That smile, fuck. He knew it right then that she could make him do anything with that smile of hers.

He had been so wrapped up in bliss that he stood up too quickly, completely forgetting all about the bruise that was probably shaping itself on his side. He grimaced discreetly, playing it off skillfully as he walked up to the dream. "Where to?" He softly asked, not caring about any of the repercussions that would follow when he got home. Not now, at least.

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Two chapters today, because we needed this. At least I know I did.


	5. La Luna (Video)

**Watch Cyn x Isaac Trailer Video In The Link Below:**

youtu

.be

/OrQeulY0oYY

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Note: FF doesn't allow me to post links, so you'll have to connect the top three lines


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